Weight of the World
by Merlin71
Summary: A moment between House and Chase on the year anniversary of the fated phone call and Kayla's death.


**WEIGHT OF THE WORLD**

House entered the conference room, intending to grab some coffee, but he paused in the doorway when he saw Chase sitting at the table. He looked like he had an icepack on one hand. He also looked like the weight of the world rested on his sagging shoulders. House wasn't one to involve himself in his minion's lives, unless it would provide amusement or some form of entertainment for him, but he knew what today was, so he ventured forth. When he reached Chase's side, he realized part of the reason the Aussie was slumped over was because he was cradling his left arm over his right side, protectively. His right hand was the one on the table with the ice pack. "Who'd you piss off?" House queried, as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Linebacker-sized teenager on speed," Chase replied, monotone.

"Really?" House was intrigued, wondering where Chase might have had such a confrontation, since he didn't remember any large sized teenagers involved with their new patient, whose case he had just solved. In fact he had just finished ordering Cameron and Foreman to give the woman the treatment. However, House didn't let himself be distracted from the moment at hand for long. Not when it hit him what must have happened. "That's right, you had my clinic duty." As he spoke, House reached out and grabbed the ice pack, wincing at the red and swollen knuckles that were revealed. "Looks painful," he said, stating the obvious.

Chase didn't react beyond carefully lifting his left arm so he could grab the icepack back and return it to his hand. "Can't fool you," he deadpanned.

House leaned back in his chair, eyeing Chase for a moment, taking in the pale face and the lines of pain etched around the full mouth. He tapped his cane against the floor in an off beat rhythmn for a moment, they asked, "So what happened?" He figured maybe this would offer a distraction for them both.

"Kid was violent. I punched him twice, he slammed me into the counter once, security came and took him down and now he's strapped down in a room. End of story," Chase obediently, if not pithily, detailed.

"Did you have someone look at you?" House asked, already knowing the answer he would get.

Chase snorted. "Don't need to be looked at, nothing broken. Contrary to your endless commentary on me, I am a capable doctor."

House nodded. "I know you are, but you still need to be looked at. We'll start with x-rays. Come on." He got up, gesturing for Chase to do the same.

But Chase didn't move. "Nothing's broken," he repeated, dully. "I'm fine."

"You need some work selling the emotion behind that one," House replied. "You're not the least bit convincing." And he wasn't. House knew that Chase was broken in ways that an x-ray would never reveal. House understood that kind of broken. Chase was good at hiding it, but today was a bad day. One year ago today, Chase had gotten the call about his father's death, which had set off a chain of events leading to the death of a mother of two. A chain of events House had been an unwilling part of.

"Go away," Chase whispered, letting his head drop down till his bangs nearly brushed the table top. Weariness was emanating from him in waves.

For a moment, House considered doing just that. Walking away would be so easy, but he found himself glued to the spot. "Humor me with x-rays and if they're clear I'll drive you home and we'll forget this ever happened. I won't even make fun of you tomorrow."

Chase almost laughed at that. "Tomorrow's saturday, none of us will be here."

"Good point," House allowed, "But still a moot one. Get up, blondie or I'll knock you out and drag you there caveman style."

"In your dreams," Chase replied, but he did make the effort to stand. He was a bit wobbly on his feet, but House moved in to steady him by his good arm. "I'm fine!" Chase hissed, pulling away and stepping carefully around House. He headed out the door and down the hallway.

House moved to follow him. He caught up easily, since Chase was moving almost in slow motion. "If you feel like you have to puke, aim for the wall, not me," House cautioned.

Chase heaved a put upon sigh, obviously going for the dramatic effect, only he could suck in a full lungful of air with his sore ribs, so he ended up coughing, then stumbling, and in the end House guided him over to the nearby wall for support.

"That was incredibly stupid of you," House pointed out, even as he watched Chase closely. He was paler than before and his face was shiny with sweat. He was suffering and House figured he'd probably rather do it alone, but something compelled him to keep an eye on Chase. His gut instinct was wailing at him. So once it looked like Chase wouldn't keel over, House grabbed him by the arm and propelled him toward the elevator.

"I'm not going to x-ray," Chase mumbled, hunching over and shuffling along at an old man's pace.

House rolled his eyes, even though Chase couldn't see it. "You always do what I tell you to do," he said, matter of factly. "And you'll do what I tell you to do now, same as always." They both knew it was true, so House wondered why they were even having this innane conversation. Maybe Chase was trying to distract himself from the pain. House could go along with that, since they were at the elevator and it was a short trip down to the second floor.

But Chase balked as the elevator doors opened. "You can't just get me into x-ray," he said, sounding like he was trying to get House to see reason.

"Ahh," House drawled. "Maybe I can't, but you can. That head nurse has the hots for you. What's her name again? Mabel or something?"

"Meredith," Chase replied, automatically correcting House. "And she's an x-ray technician, not a head nurse."

House shrugged. "Whatever. She'll take you right on in and fuss all over you."

Chase straightened up as much as his ribs would allow and locked eyes with House. "Just give me one of your pills and call me a cab," he countered, his voice soft and pleading.

"I know what today is," House shot back. "You're not thinking straight."

"God..." Chase looked equal parts amused and frustrated. "You don't know me at all, House. I'm not like you. I'm not going to wallow in my misery. I'm tired and I hurt and I just want to go home and go to sleep. I'm not going to get drunk and moon over all the things I should have done that would mean Kayla would still be alive. She's dead, my dad's dead, it's over and done with. There's going back. So will you give me the damn pill?" He held out one hand as he asked.

House stared at Chase for a long moment. His gut instinct was still wailing at him, but he ignored it. Chase understood something that most people just didn't get. You can't save those who don't want to save themselves. He was pretty sure Chase wasn't going to self destruct, at least not over the weekend. "I'll drive you home then give you what's left in my bottle. Should get you through the weekend. I expect you back on monday, but if you can't stand up straight, you're going to get x-rayed."

For a minute it looked like Chase was going to argue with him, but instead he dropped his hand and nodded. "Deal."

"Let's go then." House gestured to the elevator. He watched Chase try to straighten up a bit more, then give up and sag against the wall. Punching the button for the first floor, House rested both hands on the top of his cane and remained silent as they rode down. Once there he waited for the doors to open then led the way out. Stopping for a moment, House sucked in a lungful of the night air.

Chase had stopped beside him, waiting, eyes closed for the moment and he looked achingly young in that moment.

House looked away. "It won't suck as much next year," he stated.

"I know," Chase whispered, then he started walking towards the parking lot, leaving House to follow him.

"Yeah, you do," House quipped to himself. Then he started off in Chase's wake, watching as the younger man shrugged his shoulders, as if settling the weight of the world to a more comfortable position.

House mimicked him with a shrug of his own.

**THE END**


End file.
